small Russian farmer lay dying in his bed. His old wife sat holding his hand and wiping away her tears.
The old man looked at her and smiled with a palpable tiredness. “Do not cry for me, Galena,” he said. “I will soon be with God. That cannot be a bad thing for me. I am glad to go.”
“Da, Ivan,” she said. “You will soon be with God. He will welcome you and give you great peace. If anyone deserves it, it is my Ivan.”
His sons and daughters, and their sons and daughters were gathered around his bed, singing softly the Russian hymns he so enjoyed. He loved each member of his family and each member loved him. He was their papushka, their grandfather, and a great example of faithfulness and devotion, and no finer man born of mortal parents had ever lived on the earth.
Each of them had memories of special times with him. Each of them would tell the following generation of how he fought the devil and won.
A young boy about eight years old stood holding his father’s hand. He gazed at his grandfather and finally could contain himself no more. “Papushka,” said the boy, “may I ask you a question?”
The old man turned his head and his old blue eyes bore love into the boy. “Of, course, little one. I am dying but I still have time for your questions.”
“Did you really fight the devil and beat him?”
“No, no,” said the old man, smiling. “It was not the devil. I fought one of his demons. The devil only gives orders. His demons fight the battles. But, yes, I won.”
The boy’s eyes went wide. “Did the demon have horns and a tail, papushka?”
“No,” the old man smiled. “He looked like a man.”
The boy looked suspicious. “How could that be, papushka? The priest in the village and the teachers at my school all say that demons have horns and tails.”
The old man reached out his shaking hand and motioned the boy to come closer. His father lifted the boy on the bed and the old man gathered him into his arm. “Let me tell you something, little grandson. Will you listen?”
The boy nodded. “Da, papushka. I will listen.”
“Good. Priests know little of God and the devil and school teachers know even less. You will not always find God in a church, and you will not go to heaven by crossing yourself or performing rituals.” The boy’s mother, devoted to the Russian Orthodox Church, covered her mouth with her hand and willed herself not to speak. The old man continued, “In this life, you will find God in the fields as you plant your crops and pull them from Mother Russia. You will find him as you worry about your children and pray they are well and happy. You will find him as you help others in their times of need.
“Do not concern yourself about the devil or those who follow him. They will find you if you let them. But, let me tell you something for you to remember. If you keep God always in your heart and mind, the devil will never find you. To the devil and his demons, bad thoughts and deeds are like a fire on a clear night. It is very easy for them to see. And, if you make the bad thought bigger in your mind, you are begging the devil to stay. Do you understand, little one?”
The boy indeed understood. “Da, papushka. Do not let badness in my mind or heart and the devil cannot hurt me. My father has told me this many times.”
The old man patted the boy’s back and smiled. “Do you believe this, little grandson?”
“Yes, papushka. I believe this.”
“Good, little one. Very good.”
The boy’s mother put her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Do not bother your grandfather with any more of these questions now.”
The old man felt something and looked through his family at the doorway of the room. He smiled when he saw his mother and father dressed in white standing on the outer rim of his family and knew the time had come for him to die. He tried to sit up but did not have the strength. Two teenaged grandsons quickly helped him and propped his pillow behind his back.
“Thank you. I grow very weak, I think.” He looked around at his family and was satisfied. “My time is here. Love and help each other. Do good with every opportunity. If you do this, you will be happy. If you do not, then you won’t.”
The old man’s heart fluttered suddenly and a gripping feeling seized his chest. He took a deep and ragged breath and his old woman cried out. He clutched her hand and yelled, “Mother, father.” He then fell back on the bed, his last breath escaping in a slow hiss.
Instantly, Ivan stood on a golden floor beyond pure and beyond perfect. Golden pillars circled the place and went up so high that he could not see the ends of them. He felt so young, so vibrant, like he was twenty again and in perfect health.
He looked at his hands and saw they did not have the wrinkles of his old age, nor did they have the scars from being caught in the threshing machine when he was a very young man. Then he saw the robe he was wearing. It was red, like the vision he had seen of himself before he fought the demon, and knew he had returned to the courts of the Creator. The robe, instead of being solid red as he had seen before, had a broad golden border and a dazzling golden apron was around his stomach. It shone very bright and he was glad.
He looked around and saw people approaching him, many of whom he recognized from before the world was. He remembered now; he remembered everything. The visions he had seen before his battle all fell into place and the vivid memories flooded into his mind like light into a darkened room. He had completed what he was meant to do. He had returned with honor.
As a tall man in a brilliant golden robe approached, Ivan fell to his knees. He did not know if the man was God but he didn’t mind bowing. The light emitting from the man’s face made it impossible to see the features, and Ivan did not wish to take the chance of offending God.
“Stand up, Ronden,” said the man in the first language from before the world was. “I am your fellow servant.”
Ivan knew that name. It was his name before he was Ivan. It was his name when he fought the black robe at the Time of Decision. Ronden stood and looked at the man. This time, he could clearly see him and recognized him immediately. “Rasho,” said Ronden. “I remember.”
“Yes. We are glad you are here to take your place among us. Are you ready to continue your work?”
“Of course, Rasho. I am always ready to serve the Creator.”
As he spoke, people gathered and touched him. As great peace entered Rondon, his mind and body were quickened and he understood everything.
“I remember Alaal, a great warrior. He is the next to fight. My task is with him.”
“Yes,” said a woman. “And his preparation for the next battle is your responsibility.”
